by Jana Downs
“Last time I checked, darlin’, the drink menu was not in my jeans.” The bartender laughed at him. Salvatore had the gall to wonder if that was a viable drinking option. He would definitely not mind taking whatever fluid he could get off of the bartender’s tight body. He noticed the sudden bulge in the bartender’s jeans as he continued to stare. “Stop thinking about getting me naked,” he murmured softly.
Salvatore blushed. Gods, had he really been staring so rudely at the man? Sometimes he wondered about himself.
“How about some Dragon Berry punch?” the bartender asked suddenly, changing the conversation.
“What’s in it?” Salvatore asked, grateful for the change in topic.
“It’s pretty simple. It has Dragon Berry rum and cranberry juice. It’s a really sweet drink. Goes down pretty smooth and has a great taste.”
Salvatore nodded. “Sounds great.”
A few minutes later his bartender sat his drink on a napkin in front of him and went to check on the rest of his customers. The club wasn’t busy yet because it was still early, nine o’clock. In another two hours Salvatore would lose his chance to confront his bartender because the place would be slammed. He took a sip of his drink.
“How is it?” His bartender had returned.
Salvatore nodded. “Not bad.” He paused. “Tell me your name.”
The bartender smiled cheekily. “I think not, darlin’. It’s sexier when it’s mysterious. You know?”
The Demon Prince shook his head and asked again. “Please, just tell me your name.”
The smile faded to be replaced by a frown. “What do you want it to be? Boyfriend? Lover?” So he had been aware that Salvatore had been interested. The minx.
“I want you to be called my destiny,” Salvatore said formally. He instantly wanted to kick himself. He sounded like a love-besotted idiot. Oh wait…he was a love besotted idiot.
“All right. Destiny it is then. Call me Destin for short.”
Salvatore let out an inhuman growl that had the humans close to him scooting back from the bar. His Destiny held his ground.
“You need to settle down,” the bartender said bravely.
Salvatore felt instant embarrassment. He blushed. “I’m sorry. I…” He sighed. “I’ll be right back.” He scooted back from the bar and went toward the booth where the guys he’d come in with waited for him.
* * * *
Destin noticed that the vampires who worked as bouncers followed him closely with their ever-vigilant gazes. It was odd. The persistent beauty didn’t feel vampire or shifter, but he definitely felt “other.” As the King of Faery, Destin should’ve been able to tell what, but the identity eluded him. It was one of the reasons that he’d avoided giving Salvatore his name on multiple occasions. There were certain creatures which could use a name like his to command him to do their bidding. No matter how horrible or against his morals.
He absently picked up a glass and started cleaning it. It was already dry, but the constant motion with his hands helped his nerves. Destin had always been hyperaware of the emotions of the handsome, red-eyed man who practically stalked him at Daylight. Tonight he’d been experiencing nervousness, tenderness, and no small amount of lust. It was a potent, sexy mix.
If he were at home, Destin would’ve taken Salvatore into his bed and let the beauty fuck him until neither of them could move the next day. But he wasn’t at home and Salvatore wasn’t Fae, and fucking him was sure as hell not safe. He couldn’t afford to lose his heart to an Earthbound creature that wouldn’t be able to come and go from Underhill as Destin did.
People who came to Faery couldn’t leave Faery, and in time they grew to resent the person who took them there to begin with. His ex-Consort Terren had been a prime example. The kindest thing he had done was infect him with the shifter’s curse, lycanthropy, and erase his memory, and set him back on Earth. He still came into the bar with pack members upon occasion, and Destin would watch him from afar, grateful to know that, despite being separated from him and unaware that they shared a history, Terren would retain his near immortality and was seemingly perfectly content in his new life.
Yes. It was good that he kept Salvatore at arm’s length because Destin knew how easy it would be to fall for a great guy like him. He was handsome, charming, and polite. The near-loss of his temper a moment ago was unusual and showed the depth of his feelings more than anything else. He didn’t just want Destin for a night or even one date. He wanted to take and possess and cherish the Fae King like no other had done before him. The temptation was almost unbearable.
“Are you well, my lord?” The voice that sounded barely intelligible over its hissing quality sounded to his right. He glanced up to see one of his personal bodyguards hovering a foot off the ground. They called his guards “shadows” for a reason. They were invisible to everyone but him and his King-Consort. They were wraiths, bound to him by a royal decree by his mother, the Fae Queen Amarillo, who ruled the land of light and laughter, the realm of Faery which existed in a layer of the Earth realm.
He was the King of Underhill, the Summer Court. The realm that existed before Earth was even formed. It was an old kingdom and one that was a rough-and-tumble place because of the primitive magicks that fueled it. His mother had left eons ago for finer, more delicate realms. But when Destin had come of age, he’d returned to it and taken his own Court with him, and he’d ruled there ever since.
“I’m doing fine. Clearly,” he reassured the shadow. The other guard, Naut, was out there in the crowd somewhere but stayed hidden. “I’m fixing to go on my fifteen-minute break.”
“Are you feeding well, my lord?” the shadow pressed. “You’re looking a little pale and shaken. Shall we fetch you a particularly strong-feeling human to satisfy you? Naut noticed a young man whose wife left him a little earlier. I’m sure he’d be an excellent food source if you would like the flavor of sadness. I also saw a girl who has just graduated from some human school who is feeling joy particularly strong. Lust isn’t a hard emotion to scare up around here, either,” he added slyly. “Especially if you would happen to feed on that young man who was sitting here earlier. You know the one I mean. The pretty, red-haired one.”
Destin shook his head. “That would be a bad idea, and stop prying. It isn’t polite. That pretty, red-haired man needs to stay away from me, and I from him. He’s the last thing I…” He paused because he was going to say “want” but, like the legends said, his kind couldn’t lie. “He’s a complication that I don’t need right now.”
“Shall we take care of him, my lord?” the shadow asked. The way they moved was a little disturbing, undulating like a vapor snake.
“Not presently,” Destin said. He couldn’t say never because whatever he said was law to the shadows. If he told them “no,” then no matter what happened or if Destin was in real danger from Salvatore, they wouldn’t interfere. “If he gets out of hand, you may need to get him off of me. I don’t need the exposure my power would cause if I had to do it myself. He’s a bit bigger than me.”
“Very well, my lord. Enjoy your break.” The shadow evaporated into thin air.
Destin made his way to the side exit and stepped into the alley on the other side of the building from the entrance line. It was secluded from the street by a wooden door on the far end, and employees often used this place as a haven against the club’s over-the-top atmosphere and for smoking. He patted his pockets and found his pack of handmade cigarettes from the tin tucked therein.
He lit the tip of a particularly fat rolled cig and took a deep breath. Instantly the alley was filled with the scent of cloves and spices. It was a special blend that he got from his kingdom, and humans were constantly asking about his “brand.”
“Retreat doesn’t seem like you.” The silken voice did not seem happy.
Destin turned, knowing who was there by the voice alone. “Salvatore, what are you doing following me?”
“I need to talk to you. Just…let me get this off
my chest, and I promise I’ll leave you alone. Every time I try to in there”—he pointed to the club—“you play cute or evade me. For once, just hear me out, and I’ll leave it alone.”
Destin crossed his arms over his chest and looked up into Salvatore’s face. He was a handsome devil. Most humans wouldn’t be able to see in this sort of piss-poor lighting, but he could see like it was full-on daylight, a benefit of ruling the Summer Court of Faery.
“Talk,” he commanded, intrigued. He’d never had someone so determined in their pursuit of him who didn’t know who he really was. Even Terren had been the pursued. Never had he chased after Destin.
Salvatore looked Destin dead in the eyes as he spoke. “We’ve known one another a few months now. I really enjoy our conversations and our flirting, but I’ve got to be honest with you. I don’t think it’s enough anymore. I think about you all the time. It’s not just your looks, either. I mean…” He fumbled for words. “Of course you’re hot and your body is beautiful, but that’s not all I want. I want to see you. I mean, outside the club. I want to see you as in date you.” He reached out and took Destin’s hands in his, and the fae allowed it. “I really like you. I like you a lot.”
Destin’s emotions churned with the confession. Lord and Lady, he had butterflies in his stomach. He faltered in his resolution to remain aloof. “This is not a good idea.” He whispered the words. He looked up into vivid, red eyes and thought he was in a dream. No way could this impossibly breathtaking creature be staring at him like he was half in love already. Maybe just once…
Salvatore took the choice away from him as he leaned forward, pulling Destin into the cradle of his arms and taking his lips in a kiss. It was perfect. Salvatore groaned, and Destin echoed him. The spark that flared between them swirled like a physical energy around them, igniting the very air in sunbursts of light.
The fae’s mouth opened and admitted the seeking tongue of the other man, and he surprised himself by letting out a gasp of surprise and winding his hands under Salvatore’s shirt. He didn’t remember when they’d stopped holding hands.
Salvatore’s hands came down to mold his ass cheeks through his denim. Those were very knowledgeable hands by Destin’s estimation. They massaged and teased the hard globes of his buttocks, clenching in a manner that was reminiscent of the same movements that would accompany sex. And they would be having sex. Destin’s weak resistance was fading, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that they would be having sex. Soon. He was resisting the urge to transport them both to his bed right this instant.
“Salvatore,” he gasped. “Take me home. Take me home with you.” Maybe it would be okay to have a lover on Earth. He’d just go back and forth between his world and this one. He’d make it work, and if they got serious…well, they’d cross that bridge when they got to it.
The other man groaned and pressed their bodies harder together. His hard length pushed into the soft flesh of Destin’s abdomen. Destin’s cock throbbed in time with his heart. He couldn’t wait to have Salvatore buried to the hilt in his throbbing ass. He hadn’t had a lover take him in some time, and he ached for Salvatore to be the one to do so.
Salvatore’s whole body jerked, and he pulled back from their kiss. Destin blinked in surprise. “What’s wrong, Salvatore? Did I say something wrong?”
His would-be lover opened and shut his mouth, gaping like a fish. Destin stared at him in confusion as his skin paled before his eyes. Then something warm and wet dripped onto his chest, soaking instantly through his shirt. He smelled the tangy scent of copper.
His gaze slipped from Salvatore’s eyes, which were suddenly filled with pain, to the source of the wetness. Horror filled him. A sharp, cool-gray blade protruded from the left of Salvatore’s chest, and the silk shirt was decorated with a terrifying red bloom that wept in crimson tears down the front. His knees buckled, and he collapsed at Destin’s feet.
As his body fell, Destin’s sight was cleared to reveal his two shadows standing behind his would-be lover, one without his blade.
“What have you done?” Destin shouted, kneeling beside Salvatore and yanking the cursed blade out of his chest. He looked at the frost-bitten edges of the wound and the blood still pouring out of it and knew it was too late.
“You said if he didn’t cease you needed us to get him off you,” one of his shadows reminded. The wraith sounded too pleased with himself for his liking. “He possesses a tremendous untapped power. This way you may have him as yours, my lord. And we will get a new brother.”
It was then Destin knew they’d stabbed him with not just any blade but a blade made with the very essence of what made a shadow to begin with. Salvatore would die unless he acted quickly, and then, instead of death, an endless service as a wraith to their King in the nether realm awaited him. He couldn’t let that happen. Salvatore didn’t deserve such a fate.
Destin immediately went into action. “He will not become your brother. Carry him while I open the portal.”
“You’re keeping him?” his other shadow asked incredulously. “You said that you didn’t need to become involved with him. Let us take him to our King, my lord. You needn’t worry yourself.”
Destin let his power blaze to its full glory, and the two shadows fell to their knees in supplication. When he let his power out, it was as if he was infused with the sun itself. It was difficult for creatures of complete darkness to look upon him. Fae were creatures of elemental magick, and as the King, he could channel it all.
“I said carry him,” Destin snapped.
Chapter Four
Salvatore woke with a burning ache in his chest and a throbbing heat in his cock. He groaned, the sound filling the room he was in. His eyes blinked open. He had no idea where he was. Wherever it was, it was huge.
He was reclined in an orgy-sized bed that could’ve comfortably fit fifteen people. The comforter was a plush, hand-sewn, soft fabric of some kind that was richly dyed in deep purples, blues, and greens. He couldn’t see much beyond the canopy bed, but he got a sense of vastness from the huge windows that were just visible behind the gauzy, blue–and-purple curtains. Though, he wasn’t really paying much attention to décor due to his rioting body.
His skin was tingling with energy. He gasped as the tingle focused on his hard length. His hands clenched in the sheets and unclenched as his body went through agonizing spasms. What the hell had happened? He gasped. He needed to fuck. He needed to fuck now.
He inhaled sharply as the feelings intensified and he arched against invisible caresses. “Ah! Damn!” He hissed. Suddenly he orgasmed hard, shooting his seed against his abs and chest. It went on and on in never-ending streams against his abdomen. He groaned again, panting hard as the last quake left his body. It was the hardest he’d climaxed in weeks, and yet he was still hard as a rock.
“It’ll pass,” a familiar voice soothed. He blinked, and Destin came into focus on the edge of the bed farthest from him, crouched in a position normally reserved for gargoyles. It looked odd to be crouched like that when you were human.
Salvatore screamed again as another orgasm swamped him. It felt like a deity was wringing his body of seed. He wanted it to stop, and yet he wanted it to never stop. Ever. He squeezed his eyes shut tight as his hips swayed of their own volition, thrusting up against an invisible force. He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and other fluids now.
“He’s a virile creature,” a feminine voice purred to his right. He was having trouble focusing his eyesight on anything. It would return to normal for an instant and then blitz out where the world was seen in impressions of heat and scent. All the while the tremendous heat burned him from the inside out.
“He definitely wasn’t human,” another, masculine, voice agreed. “Lord and Lady, look at that cock.”
Salvatore was beyond caring that he had an audience for his orgasmic mind fuck. He just wanted some sweet release somehow. He reached for his cock only to have his hand swatted away.
“Not yet. The heat h
as to pass, or you’ll prolong it,” Destin reprimanded. Funny. He hadn’t seen the bartender move. Yet, here he was. Within arm’s length.
“Need. Want. Gods!” he shouted. His eyes rolled back into his head as yet another wave of pleasure hit him. He felt wrung out.
“I’ve never seen such a smooth transition before.” The comment sounded complimentary, but he couldn’t tell who said it or whether or not it was male or female. “The Lord and Lady have blessed him with power. His wings are magnificent.” Wings? What wings?
“They’ll probably assume a different form when he’s finished. But you are right. He is beautiful like that,” Destin agreed, running a hand down Salvatore’s naked chest. The Demon Prince shuddered in want. He whimpered and reached a hand out only to find Destin once again out of reach. What magick was this?
“He craves you, my King,” the same female voice commented. “Was he a lover?”
“Not yet,” Destin replied. “Not ever, now.”
“Such a shame, my King,” another masculine voice commented. Salvatore’s eyes came back into focus to see Destin nodding his head in agreement.
“A pity indeed.” Destin’s pretty, brown eyes met his. “When he’s finished and the true hunger seizes him, service him. You and Quis. Make him satisfied before he slumbers. He deserves it.” In another blink he disappeared.
Anger more hot and thick than Salvatore had ever experienced before boiled from the depths of his being. It detonated in the form of sound, a scream of rage that ended in an animal sound of a roar. He reached for the first body he came to.
* * * *
Destin watched from the relative safety of the place beyond the curtains as Salvatore exploded into action. He rolled to his feet on the bed and launched himself at Mar, the closest of the fae he’d left in bed with him. He pressed his palm to the heel of his erection, trying to stave off the pressure building there. The Fae King wanted nothing more than to go back through the gauzy curtains and offer himself to Salvatore’s hunger. Experience held him back. Salvatore was not going to be happy about the new arrangement that Destin had implemented to save his life.